Once A King or Queen of Narnia
by AmazinglyMe
Summary: It's after the lecture tour in America, and Susan has returned home with a job offer and a lot to think about. But something interupts the quiet order of her life...something as simple as a necklace. ActionAdventure and a little bit of Mystery.
1. Of Necklaces

_A/N: (gasp) A chaptered story from AmazinglyMe? The times this has happened before can be counted on one hand! But now, inspired by the movie and a renewed interest in the books (I realized I hadn't read them in AGES) coupled with the beginning of Winter Break comes this... A Susan Story. She's not even my favorite character, but I think her character leaves a lot to be explored. So yeah, tell me what you think please:) _

Susan was unpacking.

It was never a task she'd enjoyed because of the mess it created. Susan had always been one for order, for a place for everything and everything in its place. But there were some things that couldn't be avoided, and unpacking was clearly one of them.

She'd just gotten back from America, from going with Mum and Dad on Dad's lecture tour. And now, three suitcases lay in front of her on the bed, just waiting to be opened so they could turn her ordered room into a scene of chaos.

So she was a neat nick. At least she openly admitted it.

Sighing, she opened the second suitcase and was greeted by a stack of clothes, mostly the nice ones she'd brought for special occasions. As she unfolded and smoothed skirt after skirt and dresses galore, something fell out into her lap.

Curiously she picked it up.

It was a necklace.

A beautiful one, carefully crafted, clearly made by someone who was an expert in their field. It's silver and gold strands intertwined and merged flawlessly - Susan didn't know anyone who owned a necklace like this - or who could make one. The chain was so delicate and thin that it felt like a small stream of water in her hands as she slowly let the chain pile up in her palm. This was amazing. But she didn't remember getting it.

It seemed to Susan that she would remember buying or receiving something like this. This was not only jewelry, it was a work of art.

Distractedly, she put it down and went to hang up the latest skirt - it was a black one with silver detail, but she barely registered it. Instead, she thought about the necklace.

It brought up a vague sense of remembrance in her, something that stirred uncomfortably in her stomach. It was not an _entirely _unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't a "warm and fuzzy" one either. It nagged at her, pushed and prodded her, and Susan didn't like pushing, or prodding. She continued to unpack, though her mind was no longer on it, and several wrinkles escaped her formerly critical eye. All the time, she was thinking about that necklace.

That night, Susan didn't slip off nearly as easily as she usually did. Her mind was wandering constantly, but it always wandered back to that necklace. Frustrated, she determinedly thought about the people she'd met on the lecture tour. One of them, a professional photographer, had made her an offer that her mother had encouraged her to seriously consider, as a model for an American magazine. Her mother and father, having checked into it, had assured her that it was an offer of the utmost respectability, and they'd also told her that they would be wholeheartedly behind her in the endeavor. It was a marvelous offer - the photographer had told her that he would wait a year, even two, for her to finish school if she liked. Not many job offers gave you that. It was a tremendous opportunity, and she'd been assured of that by several people.

But eventually, in that hazy state between being awake and alert and falling asleep, the vision of the necklace swam in front of her again. This time, with it came a faint impression of music - beautiful music, music beyond the capacity from mere human understanding. An uncertain smile came over her face as she finally slept, lulled to sleep by the hauntingly beautiful melody. And as she slept, Susan looked almost like a child again.

**A/N: Short, short, short, short, short! (slaps wrist) Oh I know, far too short. It's not a chapter so much as it's an... introduction? Yeah, you could call it that.**

**Well, tell me what you think. I know where this going, but it's going to be something of a surprise for now. Review please! (bambi eyes) **


	2. Of Dreams and Centaurs

**A/N: Ooh, an update so quickly? This is because, while I have before said that I have no other demands on my time besides the wonderful world of fan fiction, this is practically no longer true, at least for the next couple of days. So I guess fairly frequent updates can be expected for a while, until I am forced to go back to doing other things. :P Other than that, please read and review. **

Chapter Two

_Blank haze floated around her, a strange, misty fog. It had no shape no form, no purpose. It was merely an all-enveloping mist. _

_She was floated around in it, her feet not on the ground, but this did not matter. Slowly, the fog began to clear, breaking off into wisps and twirling toward the sky. Vague shapes made themselves clear._

_They were strange shapes, they did not look entirely human. This didn't bother her somehow. They weren't scary shapes, or startling ones. They looked perfectly natural._

_She kept expecting the shapes to further reveal themselves, for the edges and lines to become more defined, but as time passed, she realized this was not going to happen. So she strained her eyes, and did her best to make them out._

_The most she could tell was that there were several creatures, looking quite mythological. She thought she recognized centaurs from her mythology class. But one figure, though shadowy, was clearest to her somehow. Perhaps she saw it not with her eyes, but with her mind's eye. It was a lion._

_It was the one thing in her dream she knew without a doubt. Everything else was uncertain, vague, and shadowy, but that was clear. It was a lion, a great, majestic lion, one whom she could not easily forget - or forsake. _

_The lion roared, and behind the roar was the faint music from before, swelling to a crescendo as the shapes finally began to clear..._

Susan's eyes sprang open. She was frozen, her arms and legs completely still at her sides. Something inside her panicked - she couldn't forget her dream. She tried desperately to grasp at it, but it seemed to be flowing away, slipping through her grasp. All she remembered was a roar...the lion's roar. It echoed through her ears, and she caught a definitive image of herself with the lion, hands running through his mane (she knew it was a "he" somehow) and riding on its back. It was a great, terrible, wonderful lion, and she knew that.

Susan got up, too restless suddenly to get anymore sleep. The dream drove her out of her bed and up to pace the room. It had not been a nightmare, but rather a…well, she didn't know what it was.

She decided to get a glass of water. As she trooped down to the kitchen, reaching for a glass from where they were kept on the to shelf of the cupboard, she thought about it. About what she'd remembered.

Hard as she tried to convince herself that it was just a dream memory, the memory that comes when something hasn't really happened but seems to have happened, or has happened in a dream, she could not do it. Much as she repeated to herself that it must have been just that - a dream - it was to much. To Susan's sensible, logical mind, which had only grown more no-nonsense as the years went by, the facts must be laid in front of her. So she did so.

She'd found a necklace earlier that day, a beautiful necklace. She could not remember where she'd got it. Indeed, it almost did not seem human crafted. Then, she had gone to bed and had this dream, this dream that was almost not just a dream but a memory…

Uneasily, restlessly, she got up and wandered back to her room. The necklace was sitting on her bedside table, almost as if waiting patiently. She picked it up, feeling the cold metal between her fingertips, staring hard at it, willing herself to remember. It felt almost like it was not something she wanted to remember, but in spite of that she did not put the necklace down.

It's edges blurred, it's lines wavered, and suddenly she did remember.

_Dryads._

Dryads had made that necklace for her, when she was…queen. When she was queen of Narnia.

Her heart and her stomach both gave a lurch as she recalled it all in a rush. Coronation, hunting parties, treaties with foreign countries, and diplomacy. Being called back to help yet again and being welcomed as King Arthur would be welcomed back to England, setting the proper King in place on the throne. Being the best archer in all of Narnia for a hundred - a thousand - years.

Queen Susan the Gentle.

She felt her heart beating in her throat as she remembered the occasion on which the dryads had given her the necklace. It had been soon after the coronation. The dryads and the nymphs had come in parties to greet and honor their new rulers. To Lucy they had given a little wooden flute, carved intricately, with the designs looking like they would spring straight off of the wood. To Edmund, a careful crown, silver and inset with jewels, a solemn but joyful crown, to fit his name - the Just. To Peter, a sword, though they were not a people of war, inlaid with a blood-red ruby on the hilt, that glistened in the sun like a star. And to her…this necklace.

But she had forsaken Narnia.

Susan shook those particular thoughts out of her head as she carefully regarded the necklace. She knew that it would be best to put it down. To put this out of her mind, to forget it. She had good prospects, a brilliant job offer, a happy future, here before her. Narnia was a children's toy that she had put away long ago. The necklace should be placed in a drawer - she knew she wouldn't be able to bring herself to throw it away - forgotten. It must be disregarded as a plaything that she had long ago outgrown. While she now knew that it was not, as she had thought, merely imaginary (she could not manage to persuade herself of that now) she could set it aside.

Susan's hands picked up the necklace and opened the drawer of her bedside table. They slowly let the chain dribble through her fingers, until the pendant halted its slow progress toward careful oblivion.

And then she stopped. Even though there was no light in the room, the pendant glinted at her, almost winking.

It couldn't hurt to put it on one last time.

Susan slipped the necklace around her neck, reaching behind herself and sweeping her hair out of the way so that she could fasten the catch. It fit seamlessly, never once faltering, though it must have been put away for years.

It felt so right, so perfect, there on her neck, but she only had an instant to reflect on it before she felt a brief jerk, and then a whirling sensation in her stomach.

Then, for one moment, everything was black…

When Susan reoriented herself again, she was clutching the necklace and standing with smooth stone under her feet, with a centaur to one side and a short, hunched man to the other, both of whom were looking at her with apprehension and amazement.

**A/N: Just so you know, Susan will not be the only character in this story. The other Pevensies will be featured. Other than that, please review!**

**Oops, wait, don't go yet. :P**

**I've heard that individual reviewer thank you's aren't allowed in chapter anymore. True? Okay, now you can go. :P**


	3. Of Conferences and Royalty

_A/N: Well, I'm fairly certain this is the longest chapter to date. In my ending author's note, I've answered some questions about the timeline that I'm sure we'll come up if they haven't already. Other than that, please review._

Chapter Three

Susan straightened her back automatically, uncertain. It was the centaur that first bowed, bending it's horses' legs gracefully.

"My queen," he said in a low, ringing voice, "a thousand welcomes."

Susan dipped her knee and swept her hands out to her sides, though she quickly remembered there was no skirt there to sweep. Still, it was a passable curtsy she supposed. The centaur smiled at her, a centaur's smile, a fierce, proud smile that bared his teeth. Then Susan turned to the man that she had caught a glimpse of earlier.

He was a hunched over, wizened little man, and such a stereotype of a wizard that Susan almost assumed he must **not** be one. However, as he straightened himself out, the hunch became slightly less pronounced, and when he looked her in the eyes for the first time, there was power stored there. He didn't smile, but looked her up and down gravely, and then he to bowed, though very slowly.

Susan hesitantly repeated her curtsy, unsure just what she was expected to do, and slowly realizing what had happened. She wondered, vaguely, if now would be a good time to panic. However, the man spoke before she could really comprehend the situation, and she desperately hoped things would be explained to her.

"Welcome Queen Susan the Gentle of the Golden Age." The man said, in a surprisingly strong voice. "Welcome back to your kingdom."

So she was in Narnia. There had never really been any doubt in her mind - she had felt where she was, she had known. But, fiercely insisting upon remaining logical, she'd insisted on proof. This, she felt, was proof.

"Thank you." Susan replied, trying her best to remember her courtly manners. When she couldn't, she decided that this was hardly an ordinary situation, and that it might be best to just be as polite as she could under the circumstances. "I am honored to be back."

The man smiled for the first time. "Indeed it is an honor to have you. There is much to be discussed. I am afraid the situation is grave." He was very straightforward, and the tone of his voice did not change, but somehow it gave Susan the shivers.

"A council has been called Your Majesty." The centaur said quietly from her other side. "To be held in an hour. Will this be convenient for you?"

Susan almost laughed. "I do not have any other engagements sir."

The centaur _did_ laugh, though his laugh was as fierce as his smile. It was, Susan reflected, the laugh of someone who hadn't laughed long or loud in far to long. The man however, did not laugh. When Susan turned to look at him he was regarding her with a very serious look in his eyes indeed.

"I am sorry sir. It was not my place to make light of the situation." Susan said quickly, groping around for the diplomatic tact she'd had in the "old days."

"It is not that." The man assured her. "I am just…affirming that you are who we think you are. There is…danger of late. It is no straightforward matter."

Susan merely nodded, but fear swelled inside of her. He just seemed so serious. There was an almost tangible fear hanging about this castle.

Susan really looked at the castle for the first time. It looked like it might once have been a gay, happy place. It's stonework was bright and cheerful, the statues ringing the roof and along the eaves told stories of dancing, feasting, and happy times. They seemed in fact, to tell the story of the Golden Age, down to the White Stag. Susan smiled slightly, but it was a bittersweet smile.

"I will show you to your room my lady." The centaur said, turning towards the castle doors. Susan nodded, though even she realized she was running on automatic. After all, this was something (perhaps a bit more than something) of a shock. Still, she followed the centaur through the doors and into a magnificent entrance hall. Almost absentmindedly Susan noticed that the floor was polished marble and the walls seemed to be some kind of dark-stained wood. This was a _splendid_ castle if it was nothing else.

A few moments later Susan found herself in her room.

While the room was just as splendid as the rest of the castle Susan didn't dwell on that much. Although she'd been told several times lately what a marvelously growing young woman she was, and how mature she was - how she was a young adult already - the minute she got within the room and the centaur was gone, Susan threw herself on the bed with an, "Oompf!" from both herself and the mattress.

So here she was.

That seemed a tremendous understatement to her as she sat there in a room fit for royalty - which I _am_ - she thought, attempting to readjust herself to the idea, she sat there, and tried her very best to make some kind of **sense** of the past few minutes.

Quite clearly, she had been brought to Narnia. That was, to her, almost the only truly clear thing at the moment. She had been brought to Narnia, and the only reason she would have ever been brought back, after what she'd done, would be if Narnia was in danger - probably terrible danger.

She knew that she'd deserted it. Forgotten it. Pretended it was all imaginary, and after a while, that was what she believed. Even now, when she was solidly **in it** she wasn't sure if she could quite believe where she was. And beyond that, she and Peter had been told that they would not be coming back. That was after they'd set Caspian back on the throne. So for her to be back - that would require a great trouble indeed.

Susan wondered, if the others were here too? Surely she wouldn't be the only one. Logically, the first person brought back wouldn't be her, not one who'd turned her back on the entire country. It would be Peter, who'd been High King, or Lucy, who'd been the first to find it, or even Edmund, who'd certainly never even considered treachery again, not after the White Witch. It wouldn't be only her. In fact, if these people went about their business sensibly, she'd be the last - and maybe a last resort.

As she was thinking all this, quite a good deal of bustling was going on in the castle around her. Now, looking up at the clock on the wall in her room, she saw that it had been nearly in hour. Susan certainly had enough "royal" sense - and common sense - to realize that one didn't go to a council looking like she did. It had been the middle of the night when she'd put on that necklace, and she wasn't wearing anything nearly appropriate for some kind of officious thing like this.

At that moment there was a knock on her door and what she recognized as a nymph entered. The girl smiled at her and dropped a curtsy.

"Greetings your majesty."

Susan only fumbled for a moment before deciding that just a gracious smile might be best.

The next several minutes were spent with hair-combing and face-washing. Then, the nymph left, leaving a beautiful (and quite royal, Susan thought ruefully) dress behind. It was a deep purple, with elegant green designs running over it, and a small silver crown for her head. Susan stared at it all, feeling slightly overwhelmed. It was the crown that really brought things home to her. She was in _Narnia_.

"This council is brought to order." Said a ringing voice a few minutes later. Susan was seated in a large, high-ceilinged room, with soaring walls and beautiful tapestries, but her mind was hardly on the décor. Instead, she gazed around the table. She was seated at the right hand of the old man who had met her earlier. The centaur was on the other side. And all down the long table were Narnian creatures.

Of course, if she'd thought about it, she hardly would have expected it to be any other way. Certainly no other "Sons of Adam" or "Daughters of Eve." But looking around the room, she found if full of centaurs, fauns, eagles, hawks, leopards, and all manner of other animals, as well as dwarves and a few dryads. They didn't frighten her, but they only reinforced the truth - this was Narnia. Somehow, Susan still couldn't quite get that idea rooted in her head.

"This council has been called because Narnia is in a time of great danger, as we all know. This council was also called to see the results of our attempt to bring the great Queen Susan back to Narnia. As you can all see I am sure, she has indeed returned."

Susan looked around to see all eyes on her, some doubtful, some admiring, and some merely assessing her, as though trying to decide if she would be useful or not. She blushed slightly. Luckily, the old man (she would really have to find out his name) spoke again, returning the collective attention of the table to him.

"My friends, there is little doubt as to what must be done. The only thing now to do is to inform our queen of the present situation. And, of course, obtain her answer."

Mystified, Susan looked inquiringly at the old man. He returned the look.

"My name is Elfred my lady. I have been ruling as regent, until a true monarch can be found. Now, however, that is the least of our worries. You shall be told the whole story. I think perhaps some people could use some enforcement of the knowledge anyhow." The man's - Elfred's - gaze swept around the table, looking at a few with a critical eye. "This then, is the story as it stands."

"Some years ago, King Caspian went on a voyage to sea and did not return. He did not take many with him, and no word has returned. We could only assume that he had perished, or found a land that required his aid more than Narnia. When still no word was sent, his death was assumed. I took my place as regent (I was an advisor to his majesty) until another Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve could be found as replacement, as Caspian had not left any heirs which we knew of."

"However, a Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve is meant to rule Narnia, and somehow, we could not find one. As the years past and our search wielded nothing, I and several others became increasingly suspicious as to the root of our inability to find a monarch. While we searched for an answer, we found none. That is, not until one year ago."

"That was when a woman emerged and proclaimed herself the true queen of Narnia. Her name was Kali, and she gives all appearances of being an enchantress. She had been gathering support for years, her activities cloaked by what we could only assume was magic. She had an army of all the dark things still to be found here in Narnia. Minotaurs and bats, wraiths, wolves… An army of the size that is rapidly threatening our country I am afraid."

"To state things bluntly, this country has been overrun. This castle is one of the last safe havens in all Narnia. But there is good news as well. There was a prophecy made that a Daughter of Eve would make her return and pick up her bow again. You are that Daughter of Eve - you are here to fulfill that prophecy, as you have done once before."

Susan stared, gaping, at the little man who sat before her, speaking so matter-of-factly. He did not look the least bit ruffled, but she could only stare. She was startled and dismayed to find that he was not done yet as he took a sip of water and opened his mouth yet again.

"Your siblings were called."

Susan started and glanced around, almost expecting to see Peter or Edmund or Lucy standing there asking her why she'd taken so long.

"They set out from this castle and have not yet returned, nor sent word. Before they left they assured us that it was highly improbable - they said impossible - that you could be called back. We deemed it necessary to try. We did. You are here. You may hear more about that later if you wish, but at the moment it would be prudent if you were taken to the armory to get your bow."

Determined not to lose her composure, Susan sat with a look on her face that probably reminded all there strongly of a goldfish. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy _were_ here - somewhere. Probably in trouble. And now all these things expected _her_ a girl from England with no outstanding qualities, a perfectly average girl in most ways, to do… What exactly? To save their country? And her siblings, she reminded herself, dazed.

As Susan stood she felt the weight of the crown on her head. She had once been a queen of Narnia…

Could she possibly be one again?

_A/N: About that timeline…_

_At first this was meant to take place between Prince Caspian and Dawn Treader, but some problems arose with that. Now, I guess it's become slightly AU. Not by much, but as you can see, Caspian went on a voyage and never came back. We can assume the Edmund and Lucy never went with him. Erm, if you've got any other questions about the timeline, leave them in your review please. Oh, and does anyone have an idea of the rough age Susan would be here? Any guesses? Thanks for reading, and please review!_


	4. Of Bows

_A/N: This chapter should answer a couple of questions that have come up I think. Not all, but some. Oh, and technically I'm supposed to be on hiatus for the month of January, but I saw how long it'd been since I updated this story, and I figured it was time to do something about it. Shorter then the previous one I know, but that's so that some things can take place next chapter._

_Other than that, please read and review!_

Chapter Four

The long, cold steps down to the armory were well kept, though dimly lit. In fact, most of the castle could be described that way. Clean, and with something of a forgotten splendor. Susan found herself concentrating on the intricate patterns in stones, the fascinating lights the torch threw on the walls, or the interesting designs the shadows threw up, in fact, almost anything but the fact that she was expected to save an entire country.

She was startled by the heavy thudding sound of a bolt being drawn back as the old man (what _was_ his name?) opened a large door at the bottom of the steps.

"After you your majesty." He said, holding the door. Still feeling slightly awkward about being a "Your Majesty" at all, Susan stepped into the room.

This was one place that had clearly been very well kept. It was strongly lit, and the weapons were in good condition. This was the armory of a Narnia at war. Susan surveyed the room, taking in swords, bows, axes, daggers, shields, and all manner of other things. The man cleared his throat, and Susan turned.

He was holding out her bow.

For some inexplicable reason, just looking at it, this instrument of war being offered to her, was almost intimidating. It was brilliantly polished, and it shone in the light from the wall torches. The arrows were still as sharp as every, the bow as well strung. But something seemed different about it, it wasn't as…familiar, as it had been before.

Tentatively, Susan reached out a hand and took the bow.

And nothing happened.

She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, whether she thought it would bite her, or burn her, or whether she'd drop it out of some kind of strange fear. But no, nothing terrible happened.

Neither did anything good.

The last time Susan had held this bow, even after an absence of years from Narnia, her hand had molded itself to fit the shape, and an instant recognition had filled her. A sense of absolute confidence in her ability to use the bow and arrows. This time it felt strange and heavy in her hands, and her fingers were unsure of how to place themselves so as to hold it properly. She fumbled, uncertain. Kindly, the man reached out and adjusted her fingers to sit in their proper places, though he said nothing.

What had once been _her_ bow, _the_ bow almost, was now just a bow, one among many. Susan sighed, and did her best to hold it as though she knew what she was doing as she followed the man back up the stairs.

"I expect," he said, turning to her with a grave look on his little face, "that you'll want to know a bit more about what's happened to the other three?"

By the "other three", Susan realized, he meant Peter, Edmund, and Lucy.

"Yes please." She replied quietly.

"Just so, just so." He nodded, leading her a little ways. "Here then, we'll sit here," he indicated a bench, "and I'll explain everything I know."

"First things are first. Lucy and Edmund were the first ones we tried to call back, because they were the youngest, and of course, Lucy discovered it, or so we'd heard. Of course, without Aslan's approval (and one suspects, his help) we never could have done it. But done it was Daughter of Eve, and they set out. We knew about the prophecy then of course, but we were fairly well convinced (and your siblings confirmed it) that you couldn't be brought back to Narnia. We hoped Lucy could pick up a bow instead, to fulfill the prophecy."

"She and Edmund set out from this castle towards the lands of the witch, with a small company of centaurs and others to help them. They sent word back by falcon a few times, but after a bit, the word stopped coming."

Susan bit her lip, immediately realizing what the most obvious explanation for this was. Death or capture. She shuddered. The man nodded sympathetically.

"The next step then was to attempt to call in the High King, though we had a great deal more trouble with that, and once again of course our attempts must have been favored by Aslan. Though he has not been seen in years, that doesn't mean he's not here, and we all know it. But His Majesty, your brother of course, did appear. He was confused, but the minute he heard that Edmund and Lucy were gone, he set off after them, with help once again. And once again, after a time, no word came."

Susan didn't say anything, staring down into her lap and clenching her fists so hard that her nails dug into her palms. Regardless of how relations had been between she and her siblings since she'd forgotten Narnia (from distant to cold, to barely speaking), she was still, after all, their sister. And now, clearly, the job to rescue them fell on her shoulders. She felt her stomach clench.

"Alright," She said, trying to sound as composed as possible, remember her court manners, and keep from screaming, "Thank you very much. I will…I will set out as soon as possible if you please. I presume you have no other plan of action?"

The man gave her a grave look. "I appreciate the necessity for speed my queen, and would not dream of standing in your way. If tomorrow is not to soon, we will send you out with a small party then, and the complications of the Enchantress Kali can be explained to you on the way."

Susan was to preoccupied to even do more then be slightly frightened at the word "complications." Instead, she gave a brief nod and hastily stood up to retire to her room, certain that the next situation that required court manners from her would instead receive a brusque reply and a quick retreat.

Once in her rooms, Susan sat on the bed. Then, finding herself unable to sit still, she stood up again, pacing the room. Her fingers found the necklace again, and she played with its pendant absentmindedly.

Always, in the back of her mind, there had been the thought that she could somehow back out if things got hairy, or undoable. If an impossible situation arose, she'd always thought somewhere that she could always leave. Now that she gave it real thought, of course she didn't even know how to get back home.

But more importantly, of course she couldn't leave now. Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy were here now, and obviously in need of help. These people seemed to think that she was the one to provide that help. And she would, of **course** provide it.

She felt something not entirely unlike rage boiling in her veins. Her siblings, her family, the ones who had reigned with her in the Golden Age of Narnia, were missing. And if she was the one who could save them, she would do it.

Susan spent the rest of the day walking around the room feeling the anger and sense of purpose build. She had a job to do now.

_A/N: Well, don't expect anything more out of me until February, 'k:P Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what you thought!_

_P.S.: Realized, to late to fix it as there now seems to be something wrong with Word on my computer (good thing I got this uploaded first) that I made a mistake. We **do** know the old man's name now, and I shouldn't have had Susan say she didn't. My bad, sorry!   
_


	5. Of Hunting Parties

Chapter Five

The next morning dawned with quiet. It was a sheer, serene _calm_ that seemed to deny the very nature of the day. The sun rose shining and brought with it first the gray light and then the many colored hues of a sunrise. Susan had hardly gotten any sleep the previous night, knowing that her siblings were in mortal danger. Just a few days ago had she read something like this in a book she would have called it melodramatic and unbelievable. But now she was in the thick of it and suddenly it didn't seem melodramatic. It seemed reasonable to be furious and terrified - but mostly furious.

The moment she thought it wasn't unreasonably early she pulled on something in the wardrobe that looked like hunting garb. It was the most appropriate thing within for going to battle she supposed. Going to battle did seem to be what she was doing. But unlike the previous day her uncertainty had faded away because now certain things were solidly certain. Her siblings were in danger. Possibly mortal danger. She needed to rescue them. These things were her certainties and she clung to them. They were terrible certainties but they were certainties all the same.

For the first time since she could remember she merely pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail. She was beginning to remember the marvelous simplicity of certain things in Narnia and to welcome them. She could almost smile, but the boiling fury in the pit of her stomach kept her from it and what emerged on her face was a determined grimace.

* * *

When Susan arrived downstairs things were busy and bustling around the great entrance hall to the castle. Its stone floor was alive with motion and cries of, "More armor here!" and, "Arod's calling for a sword!" People scurried back and forth with packages of food, armor, weapons, maps, and all manner of other things. Susan smiled grimly. Things still moved fast when they needed to in Narnia it was clear, and they needed to now.

"Queen Susan!" Called a voice from down the stares. She glanced to see Elfred standing there, nodding to her. She made her way down the stairs toward him.

"I see you have made very hasty preparations for this..." Susan searched for the word.

"Battle party?" Elfred suggested, nodding slightly. "Yes indeed Your Majesty. Time is of the essence if Narnia is to be saved. Arod will be accompanying you on your journey, as well as several others. We've picked some of our best warriors to accompany you. Come and you shall meet them - or however many of them are hear. We may be quick in our preparations but it does not seem to mean we are particularly organized." His eyes twinkled.

"This is Arod." Elfred announced, and Susan saw the centaur who had been there to meet her along with Elfred.

The centaur nodded. "I do not believe we were every properly introduced Queen Susan. Good morrow."

Susan remembered the dignified way the centaurs spoke and attempted to return in kind. "Thank you master centaur. I look forward to your assistance during our venture." She managed, and the centaur smiled.

"You mastery of the language is returning." He observed. "You will excuse me - I must continue with preparations."

Susan did her best attempt at a gracious nod (a sort of lost art she supposed) and Arod turned back to his conversation with one of the palace servants.

"This," Elfred said, leading her off a little to one side, "is Namir." Susan looked and found, with a slight jolt, that she was being introduced to a large leopard. She recovered in time to graciously return his elegant nod (she was definitely going to have to work at that gracious nod). He was a great sleek cat with huge paws and large green eyes.

"My queen." He said with a low bow, then returned to his work.

"Namir is a great warrior." Elfred said quietly as she was led away again.

"I would suppose so." Susan admitted, letting out a breath. It had been a while since she had spoken to a large (and deadly) animal, no matter how good its intentions were. It took, she remembered, some getting used to.

"And this is Kort." Elfred said, leading her to a dwarf. He was sharpening an axe blade, intent on his grim work, but he looked up when he saw Susan and Elfred approaching.

"Your Majesty." He said in a bass voice, bowing low so that the end of his beard touched his toes.

"Master Dwarf." Susan replied, with another one of those gracious nods.

"A few others will accompany you." Elfred continued as he walked across the busy hall. "But I do not know where they are at the moment. And those are three of our most prominent warriors."

"We have been doing our best to plan this little..."

Susan filled in the word this time, her grim sense of humor supplying the word. "Excursion?"

"Excursion." Elfred repeated, smiling slightly. "If it is alright with Your Majesty...?"

"Absolutely." Susan said fervently. "Planning these things was never my specialty."

"Very good." Elfred said. "In that case, we have plotted the course that your siblings took on this map." He produced a piece of parchment, worn, wrinkled and yellowed with age. There was a line on it drawn from their present location up to a point not to far away across an open meadow and through a small grove of trees. Certainly not more than a day's journey. Then the line petered out, as though the cartographer had been uncertain as to where it would go after that.

"That is as far as we are certain your siblings went. After that we can only pray that there will be clues for you to follow Queen Susan."

Susan nodded and carefully folded the map into her pocket. It was pliable and she was almost afraid it would tear.

Just then a horn sounded from the front of the hall.

"Queen Susan, your party awaits." Elfred murmured, bowing and allowing her in front of him. She still felt a slight shudder pass through her as she realized what was being asked of her anew - she was to lead this 'hunting party' in search of her family. She was to fulfill a prophecy.

And she was to save her family she reminded herself. Her siblings. She was going to save them.

The thought reechoed and blossomed within her mind, ringing in her ears just as her fury once again grew to an unprecedented heights, soaring and rising above her caution and her uncertainty. Queens were not uncertain. And she _was_ a queen.

* * *

When the 'hunting party' set out she and Arod were at the front, with Namir and Kort close behind. The rest of the party was a small assortment of talking animals and a few dryads, all with something to contribute to the excursion. Navigators, warriors, and even a cook for meals along the journey. Susan had somehow come to the front of this party, and she was unsure. But at least at first all she had to do was follow the map. And Arod would help her she knew.

But as the sun fully claimed the horizon for its own, spreading its light across the open meadow in front of them, Susan's certainty seemed to leak away with the gray pre-dawn light. Up 'til now she'd been getting by on her fury, but now other feelings slipped in - uncertainty, fear.

She had come through the night on sheer anger. But now there was more to deal with.

* * *

_A/N: Some quick notes..._

_Namir: Means, "quick, catlike"_

_Kort: Means "short"_

_Arod: Is a Tolkien name. So yeah, not mine. CONSIDER IT DISCLAIMED._

_Chapter Disclaimer: None of this is mine save the ideas._

_Please tell me what you thought! _


	6. Of Battles and Dismay

Chapter Six

The dawn rose clear and bright. Arod strode forward with a calm confidence and Susan did her best to mold her attitude after his. Though she'd ruled Narnia war had never been her specialty -- Queen Susan the Gentle was not a name that lent itself to scenes of carnage. But she'd learned how to defend herself in case of what Peter had humorously classified as "little problems." She could use a sword fairly well, or she had been able to. And she'd always been able to use a bow.

At first their journey went on uneventfully and she could almost forget she was on a mission of war. She recalled strolls through Narnia on calm days such as this and smiled slightly to herself.

The meadow was a scene of all the innocence of Narnia she remembered from the Golden Age, its grasses swaying in the sweet breeze and the trees on its fringes clothed in green to herald spring.

She had let her guard down and she would look back on that moment and chastise herself for her foolishness. Even in the Golden Age there had been trouble. But at the time she was simply listening to the call of a bird when she felt Arod stiffen at her side.

"What is --" She began uncertainly.

"Shhh..." He cautioned her, his head swiveling to take in the peaceful field. It struck her then that it was almost abnormally peaceful -- the bird she'd been listening to was no longer singing out into the clear morning and all the warriors behind her were tensing and drawing weapons. Hesitantly she held her bow as best she could, though it felt clumsy and unwieldy in her hands, and scanned the meadow uneasily.

An arrow fell quivering into the ground next to her, an inch or so away from her foot and she jumped away from the spot, her heart thumping in her chest so loudly it was almost painful. Arod looked to her, but seeing her stunned expression he called out an order himself.

"Group together! Do not allow yourselves to be separated. Form a circle facing outward, and those with long range weapons protect those who carry swords or axes." He was clearly a battle hardened leader and Susan felt a stab of shame at her own inability to command her little band.

"Your Highness." Arod said and she found she'd been standing stock still. Blushing and shaking she followed him to join the little circle of her followers. Arrows continued to thud into the ground and she found herself very frightened.

Her fingers were trembling as she notched an arrow to her bow, and perhaps as a result or perhaps simply because she was no longer a queen but merely a girl, the arrow thudded miserably into the ground only a few feet from where she stood. Desperate she fitted another arrow to the bow and tried again. While this one flew a little further it did no more good than the first.

Susan fumbled desperately with the bow, her fingers feeling clumsy. Fingers which had once known their work now fell over the simplest of tasks. They felt as inept as fingers sometimes did in the mornings when they were cold and tired from a night of lying idle. She could not bring them to do the simplest of tasks on those mornings. Often she had to flex them a few times to bring a pencil under control, let alone fire a bow and arrow.

Dismayed, she scanned the surrounding meadow for whoever their enemies were, and found that once you knew they were there you could see them easily.

Wolves prowled around the fringes of their little group, looking for an opening. Their coats were black and silky, their muscles stood out in their shoulders. Their mouths were heavy with froth and their eyes yellow with rage and blood lust. She felt a shudder run through her at the sight. These were no kind, noble, wolves (for there were some of those, at least during her reign). These were wolves who rallied around a leader who could promise them fresh blood and the chance to induce fear.

The ones that were shooting at them were short, stocky dwarves, but none of them had the free, open air look that surrounded Kort. Instead their faces were drawn and pointed, their eyes greedy and fierce. They carried axes in their belts but at the moment they were busy firing off salvo after salvo of arrows.

Susan was forced to content herself with shouting warning whenever she saw an unaware target of these arrows, as she couldn't seem to make her arrows go far enough to hurt the enemy, or even frighten them.

She was halfway turned around shouting a warning to Namir, who turned just in time to snarl, his green eyes bright and alert, and wound a leaping wolf, when she was knocked to the ground.

Susan could feel hot, terrible breath on her face and knew that a wolf had leapt onto her. She flailed her fists and kicked her legs, desperately searching for some kind of weak spot. It was as though she had never been a queen as she desperately wriggled around, terrified. She heard a voice in her ear.

It was a low, angry growl, that seemed to speak of terrible places and despair. They were talking wolves that were attacking them she realized. This Empress Kali had power if nothing else.

"_Queen_ Susan." The wolf muttered, one huge paw on her neck. She fought for breath and tried desperately once more to shove him off but he was far heavier than her and knew he had the advantage. "They say you're to overthrow the true queen here -- my mistress Kali. But then you know this I should say. You've no hope."

He bared his fangs in what looked to her (though she was terrified) like a cruel smile. She knew she ought to die with dignity but there wasn't much dignity to be found here, underneath a killer wolf who was about to rip her throat out.

Then there was a moment of utter confusion.

Noises and cries, and a strange thudding. Sitting up, and wondering why she could even still do so, she turned her aching head to see Arod standing there, rearing up onto his back hooves for an instant before plunging back to earth. Shakily, she stood.

"You must have -- I mean, did you --?" Susan didn't want to know the details, and the centaur seemed to sense it.

"Yes." He replied simply.

"How did we..." Susan tried her best to think of what Peter would say. "How did we do?"

The centaur turned to survey the field of battle, which seemed suddenly to be very silent again.

"Fairly well my queen." He replied, bowing his head. Susan laughed slightly.

"A lot of good I was to all of you." She said, shame returning full force. The centaur shook his head.

"No one expects you to recall the use of your bow during your first battle. No one knows what the prophecy means. Our respect for you has not lessened Queen Susan."

"Is anyone..." Susan fumbled for a tactful word and couldn't find one. "Is anyone dead?" She asked, feeling like a little girl again.

"No."

He stepped aside and Susan felt as though she was being prodded forward even though he wasn't touching her.

_"You still have our respect..." _She heard in her head. But I could lose it, she thought. I have to...what would Peter say? Inspect the troops.

So she stepped forward and onward.

She was still shaking slightly and forced herself to take deep breaths and regain her composure, if only on the outside. Her chest and shoulders ached from the wolf's heavy paws and she could still feel his hot breath, a harbinger of his jaws. But she shook her head and reminded herself that she was one, and her followers were more, and a queen always tended to her people before she tended to herself.

The next hour or so was a rush of bandaging small wounds, hearing grievances, and taking stock of what had happened.

A pack of provisions had been ripped open, and some water spilled but over all no heavy damage had been taken. She tended to a few more scrapes and cuts and then managed to extricate herself from the confusion and go somewhere she could think.

* * *

Susan seated herself on a hilltop, the soft grass accepting her intrusion as she sank onto it gratefully. The evening wind toyed with the tops of flowers and whistled away the warmth of the day to spirit it off to the skies. 

Her first battle and she'd failed miserably. She'd done no good to her "troops." She hadn't been able to fire her bow and arrows more than five or six feet, and she'd gotten herself knocked down by a killer wolf.

What did these people expect her to do?

She stared down at the beautiful wood of the bow in her hands. There was irony there. It was mocking her, its sleek polished wood laughing silently at its wielder, who could not make it sing like it deserved to sing.

Narnia was a beautiful country, worthy of a queen who was more than a pretty face.

No one had any idea what the prophecy meant. It could have meant anyone else. Prophecies were tricky creatures, and the few of them she'd come across while ruling in during the Golden Age had been anything but straightforward.

Susan looked down at the small camp of her followers, so loyal and trusting. They were building cooking fires and she could hear their cheery calls to each other. They laughed and joked, seeing their latest battle as a victory. And it _had_ been a victory -- for everyone but their leader, everyone but their "queen."

She was a failure.

Miserable she looked once again down at the camp, thinking that maybe she should strike out back for the castle. She was a liability to her little band now, not an asset.

The flames of the nearest fire danced and flickered before her eyes and then seemed to shimmer and swim. Susan squinted at it, but it was only out of the corner of her eye that she could see the shape in the flames. A great lion head, orange and yellow and gold, looking at her reproachfully and yet understandingly. Solemn and great and --

"Queen Susan?" Asked a deep, rasping voice, and she turned, surprised and feeling at once very sleepy and wide awake. It was Kort. "Dinner." He told her gruffly.

She nodded and tried to be queenly. It didn't work very well, because she was cold and stiff and bewildered. But she hoped the attempt was appreciated.

"We do not regret your presence Your Majesty." The dwarf said. And though he was no Aslan Susan appreciated it immensely. She smiled gratefully and followed Kort down to the small camp.

* * *

Dinner that night was loud and happy, and Susan did her best to join in, only to find that her heart was not in it. 

Though she would certainly not turn back (she felt ashamed now that the very thought had crossed her mind) she could not feel any confidence in her mission.

Until now she had been able to hope that when the time arose she would be able to use her bow again, just as she had in old times. But she could not. And if she could not, how was she to fulfill the prophecy?

_"There was a prophecy made that a Daughter of Eve would make her return and pick up her bow again."_

Susan could still hear Elfred's voice and it made her confidence wilt away like a child's chocolate bar left in the sun. Pick up her bow again? Picking it up was about all she could do. She certainly could not use it.

As she ate the thick stew that one of the dwarves had made, she silently surveyed this war party and wondered if it would not be better for them if they had failed to call her. Then they would not have to suffer the disappointment of a failed prophecy and a defeated queen.

And though the flames danced and quavered she saw no more lions that night.

The next morning found them on the edge of the small wood that had been marked on the map. Though supposedly they had been only a day's journey from it when they left the castle Susan knew that the battle had taken up a fair amount of their time the previous day.

The weather seemed uncertain -- gray and cloudy, with patches of white. There were moments of rain that were followed by brief bursts of sunshine, all accompanied by a cold, sharp wind. Susan shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself. She glanced at those friendly little woods of yesterday morning and saw them now as a frightening, dim obstacle, an unknown shadow land where anything could happen.

The difference a day could make in your perspective was startling.

* * *

_A/N: Yes, here it is, finally. It has not appeared before now for two reasons: one, it was lost in my computer for a while, and two, I am a bad, bad author who deserves to have her wrist slapped several times. _

_I am sorry about the time since my last update. I hope the length of this one at least partly makes up for it. Please tell me what you thought of it! I would love to hear from all of you. _

_I also really want to thank anyone and everyone who's reviewed so far with constructive crit of suggestions, as well as positive comments. I'm very grateful to hear how this story is being received. _

_Thanks again! _

_ Oh hang on..._

_ People have asked where my names come from. I get all my names from It will tell you the orgin of a name, as well as its meaning. You can search for names, or meanings, as well as look for names by first letter. It's very helpful when finding names. :)  
_


	7. Of Chases and Captivity

_A/N: Ummm...Okay, eight months is sorta kinda definitely the longest I've ever gone without updating a story. I was feeling wildly writer's block-y, and real life was interfering, among other things. I am so, so, sorry. If anyone is still reading this, then I thank you profusely. If you're new, please check it out! And whether you're new to this story, or an old reader, I promise I will not go eight months again without updating. _

_I am **sorry.** It won't happen again. _

* * *

The first thing Susan noticed about the wood was the absolute lack of noise. It was as though thick trees absorbed all sound and released muffled air. The entire place felt stifled. Susan shivered slightly. It was so dim in here. 

Their little band went carefully on through the shadows. There was hardly any light that shone through the surprisingly thick canopy, but the light that did filter through only served to cast into shadow what would otherwise have been thankfully left in the dark. Strange, twisted tree branches, claw marks on the trunks, things that seemed like trails that wound away through the trees, turning sharply, and vanishing abruptly into the dark.

They paused only very briefly for lunch. No one wished to linger, not here. Even Arod pawed the ground uneasily, his eyes darting from side to side, suspicious. Worried.

Susan was just standing, having finished her cold sandwich, when she heard a slight rustling sound behind her. It sounded almost, _almost_, like a whisper. Her heart began to pound madly, hammering against her chest, and her stomach began to squirm unbearably. She turned halfway towards the sound and then could not take it anymore. She spun around in a rush to face empty wood.

That had been silly, she chided herself. Nerves and only nerves. She had to get a hold of herself, if only to set a good example. If only to keep what was left of her dignity together, and to hold together this little hunting party that was growing more and more nervous and, perhaps, losing their confidence. Their confidence in her.

She had neatly parceled her trash (if she was nothing else she was neat), and was about to throw it away when the rustling came again. This time she turned the entire way in a rapid twirl, her hair flying through the air just behind her and settling on her shoulders. She turned just fast enough to spot a shadow that might, just might, have some sort of form, darting away through the trees with a sort of scrabbling motion.

It only took her a fraction of a second to make her choice. No thoughts ran through her mind. She was not thinking of redemption, or of proving her worth. She was thinking of nothing so much as that she was a queen and swift action was called for. She told no one, she said nothing at all. She felt to made sure her dagger was still in her belt and then ran after the shadow.

The forest was terrible terrain to run through. The light was dim to the point of uselessness, and roots extended from every direction. Susan was almost sent sprawling more than once, keeping her gasps under her breath. There was always the chance, no matter how remote, that the scurrying shadow had not yet noticed her.

As time went on she knew though, that it had indeed heard her pursuit. It cast continuous glances over its shoulder and began to put on little spurts of speed which Susan was hard-pressed to match. She had been fit, as a queen of Narnia, but she had never been a marathon runner. Her breath was coming in little gasps, and her chest was beginning to burn, as was her throat. The constant, tiny hills in the ground were beginning to take their toll on her legs, and her calves were tingling and burning. Yet every time she knew she would soon have to stop she found she could go for perhaps another minute.

Finally the little creature burst through some particularly dense trees and vanished. For one aching moment Susan was terrified that she had lost it, after all her running, but when she too pushed her way through the tangle of branches, trunks, and roots she found herself in a little clearing, where the shadow creature had stop and bent over, rasping and panting.

"My Queen." It was saying. For one strange moment Susan thought it was addressing her. But then, with a growing sense of fear and dismay, she turned to see a tall, pale, dark-haired woman standing in the center of the clearing, looking at her with a mixture of scorn and amusement.

"So," she said, and her voice was deep, with the darkest sorts of melodies running through it, "_this_ is Queen Susan who would overthrow us and claim the throne of Narnia."

There was a pause, then the woman spoke with such scorn and dismissal in her voice that it shook Susan's confidence to the core.

"Amusing."

Susan jumped up, shaking, and drew her dagger. She scanned the clearing for reinforcements, for traps, but saw nothing. Herself, the shadow creature, and this so-called queen, this "Empress." She darted forward, unsure but determined, searching with the point of the dagger for some sort of weak spot, some way to wound this supposed royalty.

The woman laughed.

It rang through the clearing, dark and cold and with almost no trace of genuine amusement whatsoever. Only boredom. The laugh of a cat who tires of playing with a mouse.

"Bind her." The woman instructed, and the shadow creature stepped forward. In an instant Susan felt a sharp blow to her head and then, mercifully, she slipped into unconsciousness.

When she awoke she could feel the rough bark of a tree scraping against her back. Her head was throbbing painfully. It had a pulse of its own it would seem, and it reminded her with each ache.

Her wrists were bound behind her with a coarse, but thick rope, and she was reminded, inescapably, of Edmund. His rescue party had told her once, many years after the actual rescuing had told her the story. They had found him bound to a tree, about to be executed.

She _missed_ Edmund. Edmund and all the rest of them. Edmund, who had betrayed Narnia but then saved it, who had not forgotten it, even at the age of fifteen, while she had willingly let it slip away from her before she even reached fifteen.

She hadn't really talked to them for years, she realized. Her eyes suddenly got hot and a few tears escaped and slipped down her cheeks.

But now was not the time. A rescue party had come for Edmund, but no one knew where she had gone. How long had it been since she ran off? They would probably have noticed she was missing by now, but they would not know why, or where she was.

And where was she? She had taken so many twists and turns following the little shadow creature that she had completely lost track. She could be anywhere.

"Well, well, well." Says a nasal, gloating little voice. "Queen's awake. Hee hee! _Queen_!"

Susan turned her head to see the shadow creature standing to her right, smiling a smile that showed rows of sharp little teeth.

He had taken a slightly more substantial for now. He looked less wispy and more solidified. He had rough, knobby skin and clawed hands and feet. His eyes were green and his smile was malicious.

"Empress says, let you go!" He giggled, a cruel, shrill giggle that grated against the air. "Empress says _you're_ no threat. Empress says you won't be any trouble, no, no trouble at all. She says go back to your little "hunting party." Doesn't matter what you do, no, no, no! You can't do _anything_. Stop the Empress? You? Hee hee!"

Susan felt her face going red as the creature scrabbled around to the back of the tree and cut her bonds.

"Hee hee!" It giggled nastily one more time before scuttling off through the woods like an overgrown crab, bending down to run on all fours.

She stood, limbs aching. So no rescue party was needed. This empress did not even think Susan was worth any trouble. She was sure Susan could be no threat to her, or her reign.

And Susan was almost sure she was right.

* * *

_A/N: Again, I can't tell you how sorry I am about the wait. This story **is **going to be finished, I promised. Probably about three more chapters. Please review and thank you so much for reading. Thanks again for anyone who stuck with this story. :)  
_


	8. Of Remembering

Chapter Seven

It was very dark in this little wood, and despite the absence of the Empress, long gone with only her taunts to remind Susan she had ever been there, there might be things almost as bad in this forest. Animals that did not remember their roots in the Golden Ages of Narnia, but remembered only this Empress.

Susan reached to pull her cloak more tightly around her, only to find that she was not wearing it. She had left it in the clearing it would seem. She half-turned, uncertain, then turned back again. She would not go back to that clearing.

Some old instinct made her check her side. She found her bow there, just as it should be, and the quiver on her back. But for all the good they would do her, she thought bitterly, they might as well be in the clearing, lying next to her cloak. In her hands, they were useless.

She felt as though she should be mourning her loss. This bow had been a part of her, almost a part of Narnia. This bow, she knew, was legend, as was the queen who had wielded it. But she had turned her back on Narnia, and this piece of Narnia had turned its back on her.

Well she was back now! Why then, could she not use this bow as she once had? What was it that was holding it back, making it stiff in her hands? Was it the air? Some foul curse this Empress had sent on the winds to hold her back, to stop her from fulfilling the prophecy?

For a minute she could almost feel regal again, could feel the weight of a circlet in her hair and the strength of a bow in her hand, in her ability to halt any attack, hit any target.

And then there was a rustle in the bushes and she was tugged inescapably back down to earth and back into the depths of her fear.

The underbrush was thick here, and tangled, almost as though it had grown together for the sole purpose of obscuring its denizens. She took a deep breath and felt for her dagger, only to find it missing. She had been disarmed of the one weapon the Empress knew she could still use. Despair bubbled in her throat.

It was a wolf, in the bushes. Its yellow eyes glinted in the strange, half-light of the forest, and what light there was glinted off of its fangs. It was lanky, yes -- its ribs were showing through. But its eyes were wild, and she could tell that it was hungry. Hungry and desperate.

There had been wolves on their side, once. Majestic and noble, their eyes a deep brown or even an endless blue, their fangs not frightening but awe-inspiring, their powerful legs and the muscles that rippled in them willing servants of the rulers of Narnia, to carry messages or to protect villages from some threat. They were talking wolves of course -- Wolves -- and Susan could remember speaking with them, enjoying their company. They knew tales of the deep forests of Narnia, of the beautiful and powerful things that had once lived there, that might -- and this had sent tingles of delight up her spine -- lived there still. 

But this wolf, this growling, snapping, wolf, was not a friend. It had forgotten speech and nobility, in favor of hunger and desperation -- something had done this to it, to the wilds and the wolves of Narnia. The Empress.

Susan felt a surge of rage and a surge of sorrow. This should not be.

She drew her bow and put an arrow to the quiver and the wolf flinched. So it still remembered what a bow was.

Susan felt her hands grip the wood which felt suddenly supple, almost warm. Willing to do her bidding, to perform the feats it had once performed, long ago, in brighter times.

She swiftly pulled an arrow from the quiver, notched it -- hesitated. It was not quite right, this feeling. The bow in her hands was eager to perform as it knew it could, but something was holding it back. She was holding it back? She took a deep breath, and swallowed, and the wolf fled through the underbrush, its body low to the ground and its eyes showing its unsatisfied hunger.

Susan stood holding her bow, feeling the energy that crawled and tingled through her fingers slowly fade until the bow was dull and cold again, the wood stiff.

And yet somehow it was not quite as cold, not quite as stiff, as it had once been. When she gripped it her fingers shaped around it as they should. Her bow was once an extension of her, of her arms, her hands, her will. Perhaps it would never be quite that way again. But a tingle of the old feeling, the old bond, had been there. That could grow, she felt almost sure. She might never again be Susan, Queen of Narnia, but she could be Susan, Champion of Narnia.

"Queen Susan?" A voice asked from her left. She whirled without thinking and pointed her bow, the arrow still notched. Her arms rose automatically and the bow leapt to her aid. She had to bite back a smile.

It was Kort, his axe clutched in his hand. "I'm not here to harm you Queen Susan." Kort said with a small smile flitting across his face even in this dim wood.

He surveyed her stance, the smile on her face and the bow in her hand. "Besides, I'm not so sure I could strike with my axe before I had an arrow in me."

Susan smiled back and lowered her bow. "I'm sorry Kort. There are unfriendly things in this wood."

She remembered her encounter and her face hardened. "You will lead me back to the main party? We must leave these woods I think, and then we must hold a conference."

"Beg your pardon, but a queen doesn't think." Kort said. "Not to her followers. She knows."

Susan paused, taken aback.

"I bet your pardon --" Their dwarf began, his ruddy complexion reddening.

"No, no." Susan said immediately. "You are right. We must leave these woods."

Kort nodded. "As you command my queen."

* * *

Their little band emerged from the woods the next day, the sunlight shining down on them in full again. Susan conferenced with Namir, Kort, and Arod, explaining her encounter with the Empress and her minion. Namir frowned as only a cat can, his eyes drawing together into slits.

"This is not promising Queen Susan."

"I agree." Susan said quietly. "She does not consider me a threat, and she left with a clear purpose in mind, although I do not know what it is."

* * *

It was a day and a half later when they crested a ridge to find a wide plain spread out before them. The expanse of grass was uninterrupted except by an enormous rock jutting up from the ground about thirty feet away, down the sloping hill. And there, standing in the shadow of the rock were two figures. One of them Susan recognized from mere days ago -- a so-called queen, an Empress with cold eyes and a colder laugh. It took her a moment to recognize the other -- a small, slight figure with dark hair, whose expression of panic was out of place on a face that should be alive with laughter.

Lucy. Lucy with a knife to her throat.

* * *

_A/N: One more chapter to go! One more! Well, one more and possibly an epilogue. I'm not sure. But I'm committed to finishing this, and hopefully soon. I'm starting a new story soon, in the HP fandom (info in my profile if you're interested), and I want to have things all wrapped up, neat and tidy, when I do. One chapter left to go in this story max before I start anything new._

_Please let me know what you thought: )_


	9. Of Endings

_A/N: Done! And, um, yes, it DID take me long enough. Sorry. sheepish grin_

_Here it is, without further ado: the end. ; )_

* * *

"Lucy!" Susan screamed, all attempts at regality gone. Her hands clutched for her bow, fumbling for an instant before they gripped the smooth wood and formed around it. An extension of her hands, that was all. 

Lucy's hands were bound behind her back, as were her feet. She was standing against the rock, her mouth a hard line, but somehow Susan knew that if she could see her eyes they would be frightened. Regal, yes, but frightened all the same

Just another limb. Susan raised the bow slowly, her arms shaking.

The Empress looked up, her smile cold and taunting, her knife a hair from Lucy's throat.

"Go ahead _queen_." She spat. "Stop me. Fulfill the prophecy."

Arod, Kort, Namir and the rest, who had been poised for the moment of action, charged down the hill, but it would be to late. Even with Namir and Arod's speed, they could never reach Lucy before the knife reached her throat.

Susan knew all this in the split-second that she notched a bow and sent it flying down the hill, its aim swift and true, the aim of a practiced eye. She knew that the arrow would strike its target before it even left her hand, knew when she heard the hum in her ears and felt her hands leap to their tasks. Perhaps she had known the minute she saw Lucy standing there, helpless before a false empress.

Susan would not have been sure of the arrow. Susan would have taken into account wind speed and direction, and the slope of the hill, and the Empress' reaction time.

But the woman that fired the bow did none of these things, and so it was Queen Susan who fired the arrow, and who did not need to watch its flight to see whether or not it would strike.

* * *

Susan had been aiming for the throat, though she only admitted it years later. She did not watch to see where the arrow struck. 

She rushed down the hill in a thoroughly undignified way. What would that American magazine think of its potential model now, running down a hill in dwarfish armor, hair unkempt, eyes wide?

"I don't care." Susan said aloud as she reached the rock where Kort was cutting Lucy's bonds. "I don't care."

She pushed her way through the crowd of beings around Lucy and then stood, uncertain. Was there an adequate apology for the things she had said about Narnia, the things she had said to her siblings? She found she could not look her youngest sister in the eye. But she did not need to.

"Susan!" Lucy said, and threw her arms around Susan. "Susan we didn't think you could come back -- we didn't even think we could but we were _sure_ --"

Susan's arms encircled Lucy and she thanked Aslan silently for the forgiveness of her sister.

"I didn't think so either." She admitted quietly. "I'd almost forgotten Narnia entirely."

It was a painful thing to admit by then, when her bow was warm at her side and her expression was that of a Queen. The look on Lucy's face was almost terrified. Not terrified _of_ her, Susan realized, but terrified _for_ her. That anyone could forget Narnia was a terrible, impossible idea to Lucy.

Lucy had forgiven her without question, something Susan was grateful for for the rest of her life. But there were still two more to face, and they were not there.

"Where are Peter and Edmund?" Susan asked, fear suddenly clutching at her stomach again. Lucy's eyes went wide.

"They'll be in the Empress' castle Susan and I --" Lucy relaxed suddenly, remembering. "Well I don't suppose anyone will stop us now."

Lucy swallowed, and Susan, though she knew the occasion was grave, almost smiled. Even the death of someone so utterly evil made Lucy balk. Susan was glad of that. In some things, she would rather her little sister never grew up.

Susan instinctively gripped her bow.

"We'll get them out." She said. "I promise Lucy. There's nothing left to stop us. And if there was --"

Susan leaves the sentence unfinished, but the hand that is formed around her bow, fingers all practiced and comfortable in their precise places on the warm, polished wood, makes it clear what the end might have been.

* * *

It was a simple matter, really. Suddenly everything seemed like a simple matter. They arrived at the Empress' castle and gained entrance silently through a back gate, the guards on the ground unconscious after a swift lunge from Namir, the door to the castle opened with the help of Kort's axe. 

The guard inside the door was happy to tell them were the prisoners are being held when he found a snarling leopard at his throat, green eyes sparking with purpose, and soon enough they came to a long, stone corridor with metal doors lining both sides.

With Lucy and her hunting party at her side Susan disarmed the guards with two quick shots from fifteen feet down the hallway. Lucy picked the metal lock with her dagger, and finally, with an immense creaking, the door swung open. A blast of cold air burst into the corridor as Lucy rushed in. Susan stopped in the doorway.

The cell was dark, made of the same stone as the corridor's walls and floor. There was very little light, but what light did filter through served only to illuminated the dust. There was a cot of sorts, though a remarkably lumpy and dingy one, and Susan supposed they had taken turns sleeping on it.

"Lu!" Peter said, his relief evident.

"By Aslan Lu we were about to try the window again," Edmund gestured toward a window, much too small for Edmund or Peter to fit through, "if you didn't make an appearance soon."

They both wrapped their arms around her, Peter thumping her on the back.

"But Lucy how did you --" Edmund began, and stopped short. He had looked over Lucy's shoulder and seen Susan in the doorway.

"That's how." Lucy said, a smile on her face. "Susan's come back."

There was immense silence for all of a second before Edmund stepped forward, his smile enormous, and wrapped his arms around her as well.

"Thank you for coming." He said quietly, joy and gratitude evident in his serious words.

"I -- what should I say to that Ed?" She asked, suddenly near tears. "Thank you for inviting me?"

Lucy burst into laughter and Edmund smiled.

"I'm always glad to invite wayward ones back into the flock." He said with a hint of a wink. "And anyway your offense wasn't exactly high treason."

Susan felt a deep rush of gratitude toward him. Bringing up his first journey into Narnia was not something Edmund liked to do, and she knew he was doing it to make her feel better about what she had done.

The smile disappeared from her face when she turned to look at Peter.

He was standing in the corner of the cell, his hand at his side, but tense. He was ready, she knew, to reach for his sword.

"Susan." He said, sounding almost calm, and definitely cold.

There was a look in Peter's eyes that reminded her inescapably of the look that was there when Edmund returned from the clutches of the White Witch all those years ago. She swallowed, but Ed must have seen it too. He put an hand on Peter's elbow.

"Peter." He said quietly. There was a reminder in his voice, and Peter glanced down at the ground, then at Susan.

"Su." He said, took a deep breath, met her eyes, and smiled. The grin on his face was suddenly as big as Lucy's. "Welcome home."

At dinner later Susan overheard her brothers talking some way down the table.

"Can't ever be first to welcome anyone back can you?" Edmund asked, a grin in his voice.

"Oh shut up." Peter said, but he couldn't maintain an angry facade for even as long as it took to finish his sentence.

Susan never said anything to anyone about it, even Lucy, but she settled happily into her chair and was finally entirely at home -- Peter and Ed bickering meant comfort and normalcy and Narnia, no matter how many years had passed.

* * *

_A/N: I have to admit that toward the end of this story I didn't handle it the way I would have liked to update wise or sometimes even writing wise. I'd like to try my hand at another chaptered Narnia story at some point. : )_

_It's been quite the ride for me on this story, trying to get more description into my writing and kick my muse into gear. I really appreciate everyone who's reviewed -- trust me when I say that those reviews, more than anything, powered me through. I received a lot of wonderful compliments, and some great help from reviews, so again (and I cannot say this enough) thank you, thank you, thank you. _

_As always, please let me know what you thought of it. : )_


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